For ages past
by Obsessed-Language-Freak
Summary: Eternity is ours, and in the palm of our hands, if only you choose to walk with me. A collection of oneshots, all China/Japan. Mixed AUs, mixed genres, and mixed ratings. Chapter 3: Teeth.
1. Sacrifices

Summary: The things I do for you. Historical setting, human!AU, silliness, fluff.

Genre: humour-ish?

Rating: T at the most.

* * *

"I said I'd think about it."

Yao tugged at his sleeve, insistent and unrelenting. "Kiku, please, come on."

"Not right now, Yao-san."

The offending hand slid round his waist and Kiku shivered as the subject of their current conversation met his neck. "Kiku, really, it's not _that _bad."

Kiku did not reply, merely gently but firmly removing Yao's hand from around his middle. "You're not the one who has to sleep with it against your neck," he said matter-of-factly, sighing slightly as he set down his text. "It's like sleeping with a horse-hair broom."

"You agreed to it only a couple of weeks ago!" Yao protested, kissing him softly. Under any other circumstance, Kiku would not have minded this in the slightest, but now, put off by what was accompanying those lips, he pulled away, recoiling mildly in disgust.

"I only agreed," Kiku said carefully, resisting the urge to itch furiously at where Yao's lips had just been, "because I didn't know it would be like this. Had I known, I most certainly would have refused."

Yao frowned, hurt, and the offending feature shifted with it. "I'm sure if you got used to it, it'd be fine," he suggested, with more innocence than Kiku had expected. "After all, it's just hair."

"I'm sorry, Yao-san," he began, because he was – he adored Yao dearly, and he never wanted to hurt him, but: "I love your hair, please remember that. I just simply cannot bear it when it is on your face."

* * *

Weeks later and having been roped into still giving it time ("Oh, come on, Kiku, it'll improve" –"A few more weeks then, but no matter how much you ask, I am not going to comb it"), Kiku felt he was slowly going mad. Any attempt at affection or romance had been successfully thwarted by the presence of Yao's ever-growing beard. What was worse, it was getting hotter now, closer to summer – Kiku fanned himself groggily, a slave to the heat - usually, he slept well during summer nights, but with Yao sleeping so close to his back (as usual), Kiku found that rest was nothing but a far-off dream.

Exhausted, and with the sun at its peak, Kiku felt himself succumbing to sleep – peace at last; dear, dear rest – he rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes, the table as comfortable as any bed.

As sleep overcame him, the door creaked as it opened. Edging around it, Yao smiled at the sight of his sleeping lover, the manner in which his fingers curled proving delightful to behold. But they had been distant as of late; Kiku was pulling away more often than usual, despite his apparent adaptation to Yao's own, more expressive style. Yao sat beside him quietly, so as not to disturb him, watching the rise and fall of his shoulders with an absorbed adoration. "Ah, Kiku," he said aloud, his own hand spreading to touch that concealed back. "You are the meaning of a blessing." He moved closer to kiss Kiku's cheek, lingering there to catch traces of his beloved's scent and to touch whispers of his hair.

Kiku's hand (rather roughly) met his face and pushed him away. Kiku sat up, half sleepy, half something new and previously unidentified – Yao wondered if it was frustration or weariness about something. "Look," Kiku said, with superficial caution, "we're going to need to talk."

* * *

He sat behind Yao, combing his long hair, re-establishing the affection they had both been missing as he brought up the topic at hand. "Why did you decide to grow the, um, beard, Yao-san?"

"It suits me, don't you think?"

Kiku hesitated – what to say? He could not turn Yao down, nor did he want to dash the other's infant pride, but it was too obvious and his silence was beginning to show his answer for itself. Yao was anxious, anticipating a response. Finally, he picked one. "You have such smooth skin."

He could see Yao trying to think what that meant, and the horrible moment when the penny dropped. "But don't you think I look cultured? Dignified? Attractive?"

"…Are those the only three adjectives I can choose from?"

Yao's shoulders slumped. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well," he began carefully, "let's just say that they're not the first ones I would have considered…"

"What _would_ you have considered?"

Kiku took a deep, tense breath. "…Unkempt, maybe. Different."

"Difference and change can be good things, though," Yao said, tilting his head back as Kiku encountered a particularly stubborn tangle and attacked it with the comb.

"In this case they can't be," Kiku replied, focusing on his task. "I'm sorry, Yao-san. It's just, well… you never said why you did it."

Yao took some time to respond, a singular sorrowful laugh escaping him. "There's only one reason I do the things I do. I thought you might like it."

Kiku smiled sadly, getting to his feet. "Come on. Fear not. Let us walk in the gardens." He helped Yao to his feet, squeezing his hands in a small gesture of love. It was hot and unyielding, but the lake presented some form of reprieve. "Look," Kiku said, extending his free arm to gesture to the other shore. "Peonies."

"Well, it is summer," Yao said, smiling sadly still. "There's nothing surprising about that, is there?"

"No," Kiku replied, regarding him with truth in his eyes. "But you and I, together, we bloom all year round."

* * *

That night, while Kiku was sleeping, clutching desperately to the bolster which served as a replacement for his own body; Yao silently left their shared bed, to find the long disused thin blade that had once been so familiar. Some others would see it as disrespect to his parents, perhaps, but then, Yao thought, his parents had never been around to want it. "The things I do for you, Kiku…"

As clean-shaven as he could become in the moonlight, he returned to their bed, gently removing the bolster pillow and pulling Kiku into his arms. His lover stirred, and, seeming to register the absence of facial hair, kissed him softly and relaxed again, content. Yao returned the kiss, reflected that he hadn't really liked the beard anyway, and joined Kiku in sleep, where their dreams blossomed side-by-side.

* * *

Not sure how I feel about this, but I still like the concept! The problem with humour is that sometimes when you're (attempting) writing it, it doesn't always seem funny.

Anyway, thanks to all the lovely people who have given me a lot of motivation; I'll try to keep this active but I can't promise anything with uni. I'm not going to upload _all _the oneshots I write to this; this is more for smaller, simpler ones. There'll be mixed verses (so varying AUs), mixed genres, and there might be mixed ratings.

I hope you all enjoy!


	2. Forging

A/N: Something old, which Inclinant might recognise, haha. It's short, but I hope you like it. It's about a year old; maybe it was around this time that I started developing this sort of style.

I forgot all this stuff whoops:

Genre: Angst?

Rating: T.

Warnings: Family troubles?

* * *

Winter was not the best time to get engaged, Kiku thought. But Yao had asked and it had given them something to look forward to, taking their minds off of the now lonely affair that was New Year's. And after three years together, two of them spent under the same roof, it seemed the right thing to do. And so whenever they were both free from work, they discussed small details—there wasn't that much to plan, only the location and date, order of service, and a few simple decorations—sitting side by side under big blankets and looking at catalogues and brochures.

With marriage having been on the agenda for a while now, things had become increasingly tense and strained, mostly between Yao and his family. He rarely spoke to his own family, and their only concerns were children (or lack thereof), but despite numerous attempts to convince Yao's family to accept their relationship, they had been unsuccessful. Originally they had intended that he would marry a wealthy and influential business partner's daughter; and to have him marrying someone without a degree, unable to have children—it was all unacceptable in their eyes. And so the question remained as to whether either of them could leave that comfort and familiarity behind—and, if not, whether they could leave each other behind.

As it happened, for some reason inexplicable and unfathomable to him, Yao had chosen him over his family, opportunities, and security. Kiku could not understand him for that, but loved him dearly for it. And so the question of marriage had arisen. The engagement ring on his finger shone alluringly, and soon he would add to it another, golden band. Winter may not have been the best time to get engaged, but spring was a lovely time to get married. They wed in a registry office empty save for two witnesses and the registrar, and walked out of the office to the most untimely snowstorm of the year. It was April and everything was perfect, and they sat side by side in the falling snow, resting against each other, holding hands.

"I'm sorry," Yao had said, as they lay in bed that night, exhausted by the very long day and the overnight preparations. "It wasn't anything special."

"I married you," he had replied, and took Yao's hand underneath the sheets. For someone as plain as he was, life was being very kind. To have found the one he loved and to be able to spend his life with them was something he considered more special than a big white wedding (which, considering the weather, they had had anyway) and a fancy reception.

"You deserved more," Yao said, kissing him goodnight.

And Kiku lay in the dark and thought about everything that could have been: about families; about big dinners with people who loved them and wanted them to flourish; about Yao and how he couldn't remember life without him; about the fact that his heart lay with the man sleeping beside him; about the future and the past and the present, and he squeezed Yao's hand and whispered—because it was so very true, and so utterly cruel that it had not been: "so did you."

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry I haven't been writing so much recently. I'll try doing something tomorrow, but my exams are really pressing. I hope you enjoyed this, though. Thank you for reading!


	3. Teeth

Title: Teeth

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Some angst

Summary: A smile showing teeth shows happiness; but it's still got him in its teeth._  
_

A/N: Inspired by an Anon on Tumblr, so many thanks to you!

* * *

The life of a nation was a busy one, and although fortunately a little less turbulent than it had been in the past, the time for rest and relaxation had, if anything, decreased. The development of technology and transport now made travelling into the very antithesis of an excuse to stay home; and it was almost like half their lives were whittled away above the various skies. But from precious time to precious time, in a bid to remember what involvement and freedom of the self felt like, Yao would pack up and head off to Chengdu Panda Base. And this time, Kiku was going with him. Chengdu was not unfamiliar to him - he had been there occasionally, quietly, when things had been kinder between them, but - he struggled to accept Yao's well-meant insistences - they were trying to leave that behind for just a while, trying to be people for a day. As Yao put it: "I don't see enough of you as it is, and I'd quite like to spend time with my partner, not my business partner."

Kiku had cautiously agreed, and there they were, immersed in the vibrant and pressing bustle of the panda base. Workers scurried to and fro like disorganised ants, leaving Kiku somewhat anxious about their apparent lack of direction. They seemed to know Yao, though, and welcomed him with shouts and cries and well-meant jokes, and had accepted Kiku in that familiar way: easily, if a little coldly. With the offer of overalls in his size still underway, he sat down unobtrusively so as to watch Yao at what was unmistakeably play.

The instant he stepped into the playpen, the baby pandas who noticed him lumbered over to him, anticipating squeaks forming a celebratory chorus. In a heartbeat, Yao was overwhelmed. He picked two of them up and hoisted them onto his shoulder in a habitual way that made Kiku's heart and throat twist with regret, because for a moment, he had seen Yao's smile falter, and happy children in place of happy cubs. But then that disappeared, and Yao sat down to act as a climbing frame. The rest of the cubs descended on him, clambering up to his head and slipping down his back, in the same direction as that terrible, horrible -

One managed to reach the top of Yao's head and another decided to investigate his long hair. With gentle strength, he wrestled one to the floor and let it bat around in an attempt to right itself again. Kiku, isolated, took the time to watch Yao, to watch each little concentrated expression, to watch each little strange flicker of his own heart as they changed.

Yao looked up to meet his gaze, and maybe he saw something of the ache in it, because their stares connected briefly, and then a panda stuffed a paw under his nose. When it retreated, a lopsided, toothy grin decorated his face, and Kiku softened, for - for once - it did not represent charm or dalliance or playfulness. In fact, it looked quite stupid. But it was happy, and a little restraining of something - maybe a laugh? - and Kiku liked it. It was not an unknown expression of Yao's, but it was rare, and the last time he had seen it was when he told Yao his feelings for him. He shut his eyes temporarily. Yao was happy, and he was glad of that happiness.

A young woman jolted him back to earth as she handed him the pair of overalls. He stood and thanked her, and looked at Yao, clutching them to him. A fleeting joy passed through him, touching his lungs and leaving him breathless. Yao was smiling. He tried to echo it, and found it came easier than he had anticipated.

In the end, what had changed between them?

And strangely, Kiku wondered if the answer was simply nothing at all.

* * *

The original ask was a bit more light-hearted than this, but... well, this was the result.

Interestingly I'd been listening to the Harry Potter audiobooks and striving through exams so it took me some time to find out how I write again. That might be why it seems a little odd. It's short again too. I'll try getting something longer done some time soon!


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